


now everything is new

by lochTenderness (theseourbodies)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Banter, Blushing, M/M, Name-Calling, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27493894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseourbodies/pseuds/lochTenderness
Summary: it's KuroYaku week y'all
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44
Collections: KuroYaku Week2020





	1. Time Skip

**Author's Note:**

> Collected entries written for KuroYaku Week 2020

Yaku gets through customs and all the way to the terminal exit like he’s on skates and the ground is solid ice. He wonders if there’s something on his face—no one is staring, of course, but he feels subtle eyes on him, watchful. He hikes his duffle up his shoulder, tosses his head back and pops his sunglasses over his hair haughtily. He pretends his passport isn’t burning a hole in his pocket and speeds up. 

There’s a man in a plain black suit and a a sign near the terminal exit with YAKU spelled out carefully; Yaku has a split second to recognize his name before he sees the other man standing there in a significantly flashier suit and a grin on his big, stupid face; Yaku’s whole stupid chest goes happy and tight, and he stops dead in his tracks for a second, too surprised to move. 

Kuroo is too full of himself to shout happily about anything in a crowded lobby, so he waits until Yaku’s forced his legs to start working again to say “Hello Yakkun,” warm and low, putting his huge, stupid heart behind every word. Yaku wants to kick him in the shin, maybe, or possibly cry; Kuroo’s just a lot to handle, even when he’s trying to be sweet. 

“What are you doing here, Mr. Recruitment Liaison? Ah, yes, hello, I’ll be in your care,” Yaku says to the driver, belatedly. 

“That’s Mr. Lead Recruitment Liaison, thank you very much. And I couldn’t leave my old rival waiting to see my face now, could I.”

Yaku was never much for blushing—too practical overall, his mother used to tease him. But he thinks that if anything would get him, it would be the way Kuroo says the word *rival* like that’s not what he means at all. This is an airport, Yaku wants to say, a little scandalized, a little touched. 

“You certainly could. But hell, I’m glad that you’re here,” Yaku tells him, stone-faced as they let their chauffeur subtly direct them both closer and closer to the exit, where the car was, presumably waiting; knowing Kuroo, a showy limo or a delivery scooter were just as likely to be waiting as a plain black towncar. “It’s good to see you.”

“You—what?”

Yaku glances back at Kuroo, who has stopped the flow of foot traffic behind him. His big, stupid face is extra stupid looking with slack jawed surprise. 

“What?” Yaku asks. “You didn’t tell me you would be here, and I like seeing you. It’s a good surprise this time, maybe make a note, huh?”

“You liked it? I mean--"

Ah. “Yeah. It’s always nice to see a _rival_ when you've been away for a while, yeah?”

Except when Yaku says _rival_ , it doesn't really sound like rival at all.

Their already longsuffering chauffeur makes the faintest noise behind them, but Yaku bluntly ignores him—Kuroo’s always had a good face, damn him anyway, and in recent years Yaku's found he likes it best when Kuroo's blushing. He admires his handiwork of Kuroo’s slack face for a second before he nods to himself, satisfied. 

Yaku turns back towards the doors, smug as a cat, leaving their poor chauffeur and Kuroo behind until he’s almost all the way outside. 

“Oi, you coming Mr. Bigwig?” He calls back, certain that butter wouldn’t melt on his tongue. 

Behind him, Kuroo sputters, loudly, and trots to catch up. 


	2. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for name calling (stupid, idiot, stuff like that) between sexual/romantic partners (not sexualized.)

Tetsurou gets Yaku to himself for three blissful hours after he lands, but by the time the dinner he cobbles together with a few of their old teammates and the Yaku clan rolls around, it’s clear it’s edging into too much.

“All good?” he asks quietly on their way to the restaurant, leaning in close.

Yaku, stubborn to a fault, pushes his face away with a huff. “It’s fine. Jetlag, that’s all.”

And for a while, it _is_ fine. Yaku’s family is intimidatingly large, and coupled with Yamamoto it’s enough of a riot that Tetsurou loses track for a second too long. When he zeroes back in on Yaku, it’s to find him with his elbow on the table, his forehead resting on his hand as he laughs—weakly—at whatever story his eldest sister is trying to tell him.

“Mori-kun, you look—”

“Ha? No, it’s fine, I just need… I just….”

“Yakkun? Hey, Yakkun?”

“Morisuke!”

It’s a fast arm from Kenma, all the way across the table, that saves Yaku from a face full of wooden table and saucy plates. Kuroo steps in seamlessly, scrunching himself down next to Yaku for support.

“Kuroo-kun—” he glances over, trying to determine how much of the heat coming off of Yaku is just from the crowd and how much is from an actual fever. Yaku Aiko could be her brother in even greater miniature; he’s never quiet known what to do with her attention, brief as it always is.

“I think he just needs to go back to his room. Would you mind? Just before Mama notices.”

He’s already nodding before she can finish. “Can I—”

He barely has his arms under Yaku before the little bastard jerks awake. “’Solutely not,” Yaku slurs, staggering to his feet. “Just gimme your arm, please.”

Kuroo’s worried enough to leave off whatever mockery he can think up. Yaku grins at their part of the table and says a soft little goodbye to everyone who noticed him standing—thankfully not his mother, an absolutely miniscule battle axe of a homemaker. He gets them out of the banquet room and down to the waiting car stubbornly insisting to himself that he’s going to take Yaku directly to Yaku’s own hotel room and he’s not going to be weird about it; that lasts right up until Yaku’s breath catches and the coughing starts. Kuroo pitches all his best intentions right out the window and rattles off a change in location to their chauffeur, a soft cheeked older man who keeps glancing back at them with subtle, endearing worry.

“Of course, sir,” says their driver, and Kuroo smiles at him weakly, utterly relieved.

* * *

It breaks literally any rules Kuroo’s ever had about this thing with Yaku, but he takes Yaku’s feverish ass back to his apartment instead of the hotel room Yaku had been planning to spend the night in. Yaku, hazy and grumbling from the fever, still doesn’t kick up a fuss; it’s the best permission Kuroo can ask for, and he goes with it without hesitation.

Yaku manages a glassful of luke-warm water and some of the ancient aspirin Tetsurou’s had since he graduated before he slips into sleep on Tetsurou’s futon.

“Jeez, Yakkun. Welcome home, huh,” he mutters, sitting down next to the futon to keep watch.

Yaku, of course, doesn’t respond.

“Yakkun… Yak-san…”

Yaku wheezes, deep in his little chest; it’s his only response.

Tetsurou’s already feeling weak-willed; it’s easy, after a fraught car ride with Yaku pressed to his side, to give in and lean down over his bent knees until he can rest his cheek on his crossed arms. He just wants to watch, just in case, he thinks. Their faces are so close together. _Just in case_.

For such a bastard, Yaku’s always been awful cute. His nose and the tops of his cheeks are warm red from the fever, now. It’s… cute. It’s cute, sort of, but Tetsurou would prefer Yaku conscious with his dumb little face scrunched up and annoyed.

_Freak_ , healthy Yakkun in his brain taunts Tetsurou. _Watching me sleep like a weirdo, get a hobby!_

Tetsurou sighs. “Get better, Yakkun,” he murmurs into the crook of his arm. “I get all weird when you’re not here to set me straight.”

“Weirder, you mean,” Kenma says from somewhere behind him, and Tetsurou flinches to hard he ends up smashing his face right into the floor.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he mutters. “Kenmaaaa, don’t sneak up on me like that, can’t you give an old man a break?”

“You’re barely twenty-five, Kuro,” Kenma says, unimpressed when Tetsurou turns to whine at him. He also has a promisingly large plastic bag dangling from his skinny wrist, though, so Tetsurou decides to forgive him.

“Ah, you’re a life-saver, thanks….Did you get—ah, here they are, good.”

“It’s just some medicine and things,” Kenma mutters, hunching his shoulders self-consciously as Tetsurou plunders his bag of treasures. “How’s Yakkun?”

“Proving that even idiots get colds,” Tetsurou huffs, gently peeling off Yaku’s worn cold patch and replacing it quickly. “’Specially idiots that don’t give themselves time to acclimate after twelve hours on a plane.”

“Shaddup, stupid,” Yaku slurs, blinking awake out of sheer spite, Tetsurou thinks. “S’that Kozume?”

“Yeah. Hi.”

Yaku waves weakly. “Hey.” His hazy eyes zero in on Tetsurou, still kneeling beside him and fighting a losing battle with some packaging. Tetsurou is a grown ass adult with a lease and a car payment and a full time job and so he absolutely doesn’t feel embarrassed when Yaku squints at him judgmentally.

“Give that to Kozume. Go get some tea for yourself, you look worse than I do right now.”

“I do not, dummy! I’m not the one with the fever!” Tetsurou sputters, but before he knows what’s happened, Kenma’s taking the pill pack out of his hands as Tetsurou shuffles off into the kitchen to huff at his wheezy electric kettle as it rattles ominously to life.

When he walks back into the living room with tea bags steeping in three mismatched mugs, he pauses in the doorway to watch. In the minutes he’s been out, Kenma’s taken his place next the futon. He’s laid out on his side with his hands tucked in between his knees, saying, “…analysis is predicting high growth in that sector, anyway, and I thought it was a good idea to expand” to the middle ground between his knees and the edge of the futon.

Yaku coughs dryly and lifts a hand off the cover with visible effort to gently pay at Kenma’s head. “Sounds like you’re doing more than good for yourself, though, huh? That makes me really happy, Kenma. But hey, don’t sit so close to me, I don’t want you getting sick, too.”

Kenma doesn’t exactly press up into Yaku’s hand, but Tetsurou can tell by the way that his shoulders shift that he wants to, a little. Tetsurou’s heart does something physically impossible in his chest as he steps closer to settle gingerly onto the floor by Yaku’s head.

“Hey, I”ve been taking care of you all day, asshole, why aren’t you telling me that to be careful?” He asks, faux-indignant. He helps Yaku sit up and hands out mugs and absolutely almost spits hot-ish tea all over himself when Yaku says, crisp, “The hell do you have to worry about, idiots don’t get colds.”

“Yakkun!”

Kenma refuses to take Tetsurou’s side in the extremely scientific argument that follows, because he is a terrible child with no sense of loyalty. Instead, he bows out after the second time that Yaku almost lets his mug slip out of his tired hands, saying a soft goodbye to both of them and only throwing one significant and judgemental look at Tetsurou on the way out. Still, a terrible child, Kuroo thinks moodily.

“Gotta go an’ see his offices while I’m here,” Yaku mutters into the pillow.

“Yeah, they’re nice,” Tetsurou answers distractedly, focused on tucking the blankets comfortably. “I think you’d like the energy he’s managed to establish.”

“Hmm. Hey, Kuroo?”

“Hm?”

“Kuroo?”

“Yeah?” Tetsurou finally looks up from moving cups and blister packs out of the way. Yaku blinks up at him blearily from under his messy bangs, longer than Tetsurou’s ever seen on him.

“’M sorry about this damn cold. Sorry you have to take care of me like this and we can’t be like we usually are.”

Tetsurou smiles down at him. He’s not sorry, honestly. He’d had plans, of course, for after dinner, but even those plans were different from what they normally did when Yaku made it back to Japan.

“I’m not sorry,” he says, painfully honest. Tetsurou’s put up with having Yaku so close to him for long enough, he thinks; he finally gives in to the nagging impulse he’s had since he saw Yaku in the arrivals lobby. He leans over and presses a short, chaste kiss to Yaku’s small, frowning mouth, grinning obnoxiously when Yaku sputters and tries to push him away.

“Stupid, I’m contagious!”

“So?” Tetsurou taunts, shoving the mess of peeled open medicine pack and boxes off to the side and wriggling under the covers without another second of hesitation. He presses his mouth to Yaku’s again, warm and open, ignoring Yaku’s complaints. “Idiots don’t get colds, didn’t you say? And if I’m anyone’s idiot—” he kisses Yaku’s cute, scrunched up nose and the cute wrinkles between his eyebrows, and then his mouth again. “I’m definitely yours, ok? Germs and all.”

Yaku stops even a show of struggling, freezing against Tetsurou in a way that might have made a lesser man nervous.

“What?”

“I didn’t want it to be like it has been. I’ve been waiting to tell you that tonight, so as far as I'm concerned, this has been a great success for me overall.”

“You… Oh, God. You’re such a _nerd_ , why the hell do I like you so damn much, huh?”

Tetsurou laughs, loud and wild, and he cuddles close, unrepentantly. It doesn’t matter what Morisuke says— not when he drags Tetsurou's arm with him when he turns to his side, pulling Tetsurou in even closer against his back.

“Isn’t this hot for you?”

“Shut up and help me sweat this fever out. After that…”

“Morisuke?”

“After that, let me answer you properly, ok?"

Tetsurou freezes with his nose half buried in Yaku's hair.

“Tetsurou?”

“Yeah... yeah, Yakkun. Take your time."

He feels it when Yaku finally slips into sleep, but Tetsurou doesn’t follow him until much, much later, too flushed with excitement to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers, it wasn't feverish delight it was literally just a fever and Yaku spent the next day and a half taking care of Kuroo this time :>


	3. Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Nekoma in the pot with Kai perspective!

Nobuyuki’s phone pings softly at his elbow. He takes a moment to finish the email he’s writing before he checks it, and then one more moment to prepare himself. Yaku texts like an old man, so any time he messages it does a body good to reserve some time. He checks the nearby clock—it's fine, he’s due a lunch break, anyway. 

From: Yaku ([ yakumsockem@gmail.com ](mailto:yakumsockem@gmail.com)) 

To: You 

RE: TXT KUROO 

Kai that idiot keeps spamming my inbox before I can respond, please tell him im not keeping up with all that and also, screw him he knows that !!!! 

From: You 

To: Yaku ([ yakumsockem@gmail.com ](mailto:yakumsockem@gmail.com)) 

RE: RE: TXT KUROO

Ok but can’t you tell him this yourself? 

Nobuykui’s phone chimes again, a different app notification this time. _i_ _know that he’s texting_ _yo_ says the preview of the message in his groupchat with Kuroo and the old team. Nobuyuki allows himself one sigh. It only takes two minutes for Yaku to respond, practically light speeds by the usual standards. His phone continues to chime frantically with notifications for the chat. 

From: Yaku ([ yakumsockem@gmail.com ](mailto:yakumsockem@gmail.com)) 

To: You 

RE: THX KAI

IVE TRIED HES NOT LISTENING TO ME 

Nobuyuki taps into the groupchat to check the fifteen messages that Kuroo already sent. 

** NEKOMASTERS ACTIVATE! Chat **

**nobullshityuki**

Just got a message from yaku 

**cattiest**

!! what did he say?? 

**nobullshityuki**

He's under the impression that I can tell you to stop and you will

**cattiest**

i mean 

**cattiest**

if it’s you and you meant it, maybe. 

**nobullshityuki**

You think I wouldn’t mean it 

**cattiest**

have i mentioned taht it scares me a lot when you don’t use punctuation? 

**cattiest**

and no i absolutely think you don’t mean it. 

**nobullshityuki**

Well you’re not wrong 

**nobullshityuki**

What are you sending him anyway 

**cattiest**

NOTTHING. 

**cattiest**

I MEAN IT’S NOT EVEN BAD, SO. 

**KingKozu**

Knock it off kuro now hes texting me 

**KingKozu**

I didn’t consent to being a part of your weird flirting 

**TORATORA**

HEY WAHT’S GOING ON 

**TORATORA**

LMAOOO GROSS, ME NEITHER @KingKozu 

Nobuyuki allows the ensuing electronic scuffle to carry on as it will and checks of Yaku who has managed a new record of three messages in two minutes. 

From: Yaku ([ yakumsockem@gmail.com ](mailto:yakumsockem@gmail.com)) 

To: You 

RE: RE: RE: why does he even do this

And I know I don’t use the IM that you guys do, but I have a skype! I even added him on skype! If he’s got so damn much to say he should just call me dammit!! 

This feels like he’s punishing me, I don’t understand why he can’t just listen. 

Awe, thinks Nobuyuki, feeling a twinge. Of all of them, Yaku’s gone the physical farthest so far; Russia’s a world away in the sense of geography and other things, too. He notices it more and more every time that Yaku comes home—he's adapting to the Super League like he’s adapted to every challenge Nobuyuki has had the privilege to watch him face. He switches to his private chat with Kuroo quickly. 

** K. Tetsurou Chat **

**Nobuyuki**

Ok, I mean it now

**Nobuyuki**

Much more and you might actually hurt his feelings 

**Tetsurou**

demon senpai has feelings?? say it isn’t so 

Nobuyuki frowns, but Kuroo responds almost before he starts typing something sharper than usual. 

**K. Tetsurou Chat **

**Tetsurou**

sorry, i didn’t mean that. i just wanted to talk to him, is it bothering him for real? 

**Nobuyuki**

Yeah, I think so. He wants to just call him, I think 

There’s a long minute with nothing from the chat. 

**Nobuyuki**

Kuroo? 

**Tetsurou**

i didn’t know.

**Tetsurou**

i mean for real?? are you sure that’s ok?? 

**Nobuyuki**

How about asking him? 

There’s a notable silence from that chat as Yamamoto and Kenma continue to snipe in the main chat—Nobuyuki’s glad to see it; Kenma’s been on a strange radio silence all week, and he can admit, even after all this time, he worries about arguably their most fiscally successful friend. Kurro and Yaku are still Kuroo and Yaku, and Kenma is still Kenma, at heart. His phone dings and he checks it casually. 

From: Yaku ([ yakumsockem@gmail.com ](mailto:yakumsockem@gmail.com)) 

To: You 

RE: KAI YOU’RE A LIFESAVER

THANKS NOBUYUKI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Nobuyuki stretches his shoulders, shakes the tension out of his wrists, and grins; nothing like a little idiot matchmaking to make a day working from home feel really successful. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on the tweeter: [@theseourbodies](https://mobile.twitter.com/theseourbodies)


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